V.  JAMES   J\J 


ILES, 


■IvEA' 


IIOREB  CHUrxCH,  ABBEVILLE  DISTEICT,  S.  C. 


.:\inv,  m\\  m  diuj     ': 


REV.   ja:MKS    C.    Fl;R>[AN 


PUBLiyilp:D   AT  THE    };i     T 


OREENVIUE,  S.  0. 
i.  E.   ELFOKD'S   PRES 


15o3 


SEHMON 


ON 


THE   DEATH 


OP 


EEV.  JAMES    M.   CHILES, 


PREACHED   AT 


HOREB  CHURCH,  ABBEVILLE  DISTRICT,  S.  C. 


OIT 


SUNDAY,  29th  OP  MARCH,  1863. 


BY 


REV.   JAMES    C.    FURMAN,   D.  D, 


PUBLISHED    AT   THE   EEQUEST    OF   THE   CHURCH. 


GREENVILLE,  S.  C. 
G.  E.   ELFORD'S   PRESS 

1863 


SERMON: 


l^AHUM,  1 :  7 — The. Lord  is  good,  a  stronghold  in  the  time  of  trouble;  and 
He  knoweth  them  that  trust  in  Him. 

The  text  forms  a  part  of  a  remarkal)le  prophecy  of  the  destruction 
•of  one  of  the  most  famous  cities  of  antiquity.  Nineveh,  the  capital 
of  the  Assyrian  empire,  was  the  largest  of  the  then  existing  cities  of 
the  world.  Covering  a  space  fifteen  miles  in  length  and  nine  in 
width,  and  gathering  into  itself  the  wealth  of  surrounding  regions,  it. 
was,  as  large  cities  are  apt  to  be,  the  abode  of  impiety  and  sin.  On  a 
previous  occasion,  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred  years 
before,  another  prophecy,  with  which  the  readers  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment are  familiar,  from  our  Saviour's  allusion  to  it,  was  uttered  by 
the  prophet  Jonah.  "  Thirty  days  and  Nineveh  shall  be  destroyed," 
were  the  terrible  words  by  which  the  man  of  God  aroused  the  fears  of 
the  guilty  Ninevites.  The  destruction  thus  announced  was  averted 
by  the  general  and  profound  humiliation  of  the"  inhabitants. 

But  sins,  though  once  repented  of,  if  repeated  and  persisted  in, 
produce  their  natural  results.  The  blow  once  suspended  is  about  to 
fall  on  the  head  of  a  people  whose  iniquities  are  full.  Nahum  is 
employed  to  predict  the  coming  destruction.  His  prophecy  is 
regarded  by  the  critics  as  a  finished  poem.  The  exordium,  within 
which  our  text  is  formed,  contains  a  majestic  and  sublime  descrip- 
tion of  the  attributes  and  acts  of  Jehovah.  Some  of  the  touches  in 
this  grand  picture  demand  a  passing  notice.  Thus,  in  the  very  open- 
ing, he  says,  "  God  is  jealous,  and  the  Lord  revengeth,"  &c.  Here 
two  words  are  used  which  have  come  to  be  most  generally  under- 
stood in  a  bad  sense,  as  when  we  say  of  another,  "  he  is  a  jealous 
man,"  or  "  he  will  take  revenge  for  injury  done  him."  But  the 
meanings  attached  to  these  terms  are  not  the  necessary,  nor,  indeed, 
the  original  meanings.  As  the  word  "  passion,"  in  the  colloquial 
expression,  "  he  was  in  a  passion,"  has  come  to  signify  the  violent 
exercise  of  irascible  feelings,  yet,  in  its  primary  signification,  only 
•denotes  strong  emotion,  as  when  we  speak  of  the  passion  of  love  or 


SERMON. 


hatred,  of  pity  or  regentment,  so  here  the  words  employed  are  to  be 
understood  without  the  qualification  which  usually  attaches  to  them. 
In  fact,  we  still  use  the  word  jealous  in  such- connections  as  exclude 
all  suspicion  of  an  improper  quality,  as  when  we  describe  a  man  as 
jealous  of  his  honor.  We  mean  to  say  only,  but  to  say  strongly, 
that  he  preserves  his  honor  with  the  scrupulous  regard  which  only  a 
man  of  high  integrity  can  feel.  It  is  in  this  sense  that  God  employs 
the  term  as  descriptive  of  Himself,  in  the  sanction  by  which  He 
enforces  the  Second  Commandment,  "  For  I,  the  Lord,  thy  God, 
am  a  jealous  God,  visiting,"  &c. :  it  is  intended  to  teach  the  impossi- 
bility of  offenders  escaping  with  ioapunity,  because  of  God's  just 
and  necessary  regard  to  his  own  glory.  In  like  manner,  revenge, 
•in  the  depraved  and  selfish  condition  of  our  fallen  nature,  almost 
certainly  degenerates  into  a  fell  and  malignant  passion.  Its  indulg- 
ence, therefore,  is  denied  to  us,  in  our  individual  cases  and  relations, 
but  is  yet  allowed  to  civil  society.  Thus  the  apostle  Paul  declares 
the  civil  magistrate  to  be  "the  minister  of  God,  an  avenger  to  exe- 
cute wrath  upon  him  that  doeth  ev41." — Rom.xii:  4.  Now,  this 
Divine  warrant  for  the  exercfse  of  revenge  in  a  particular  instance, 
proves  that  it  is  not  wrong  in  itself,  essentially.  Nay,  more,  the 
inspired  Word  teaches,  by  implication,  that  without  it  the  exercise  of 
God's  justice  towards  oflfenders  at  the  last  day  would  be  impossible. 
"  Is  God  unrighteous  that  taketh  veiigeance  ?  How,  then,  shall  God 
judge  the  world?"  It  is,  then,  righteous  vengeance  —  necessary 
because  right,  and  so  terrible  because  thus  necessary  —  which  is  to 
take  hold  upon  the  enemies  of  a  holy  God. 

Along  with  these  terms,  thus  explained,  and  guarded  against 
misconception,  the  preface  of  this  prediction  stands  crowded  with 
images  sublimely  descriptive  of  God's  power  and  agency.  Actual 
natural  phenomena,  forms  of  actual  miraculous  interposition,  and 
then  other  forms  of  the  exercise  of  omnipotence,  are  instanced.  Of 
such  natural  phenomena,  tempest  and  drought  are  specified.  Are 
the  elements  torn  and  convulsed  by  the  rush  of  mighty  winds  ?  It 
is  God  who  has  his  way  in  the  whirlwind,  and  the  clouds  are  the 
dust  of  his  feet.  He  seals  up  the  clouds,  and  "  a  fruitful  land  is 
turned  into  barrenness  for  the  wickedness  of  them  that  dwell 
therein."  The  case  which  the  prophet  gives,  affords  us  the  most 
vivid  picture.     It  is  Carme],  Lebanon,  Bashan,  visited  with  drought, 


SERMON.  5 

and  fainting  under  the  touch  of  the  Divine  rebuke.    Of  the*  Ikst 
of  these,  (Bashan,)  an  English  traveller  (Buckingham)  says : 

"We  continued  our  way  over  this  elevated  tract,  continuing  icr 
behold  with  surprise  and  admiration  a  beautiful  country  on  all  sides 
of  us :  its  plains  covered  with  a  fertile  soil,  its  hills  clothed  with 
forests,  and  at  every  turn  presenting  the  most  magnificent  land- 
scapes that  could  be  imagined."  "  Lofty  mountains  gave  an  outline 
of  the  most  magnificent  character;  flowing  beds  of  secondary  hills 
softened  the  romantic  wildness  of  the  picture ;  gentle  slopes,  clothed 
with  wood,  gave  a  rich  variety  of  tints,  hardly  to  be  imitated  by  the 
pencil ;  deep  valleys,  filled  with  murmuring  streams  and  verdant 
meadows,  offered  all  the  luxuriance  of  cultivation,  and  herds  and 
flocks  gave  life  and  animation  to  scenes  as  grand,  as  beautiful,  and 
as  highly  picturesque,  as  the  genius  or  the  taste  of  a  Claude  could 
either  invent  or  desire." 

In  consonance  with  this  are  the  Scriptural  allusions  to  the  "strong 
bulls  of  Bashan,"  an  efiect,  and  therefore  a  sign,  of  fertility  and  abun- 
dance. But  when  God  sees  fit,  the  rich,  productive  soil  denies  their 
maintenance  toman  and  beast. — The  drying  up  of  rivers  and  of  seas 
seems  not  improbably  to  look  to  those  stupendous  occasions  when 
Israel  and  their  enemies  together,  but  from  diflerent  points,  became, 
the  one  the  preserved  and  wondering,  the  other  the  astounded  and 
perishing  spectators  of  wonders  achieved  by  the  arm  of  the  Almighty 
made  bare. — In  theconjoined  imagery,  the  rapt  mind  of  the  Prophet 
dwells  upon  other  imaginable  displays  of  the  same  omnipotent 
energy  at  work  to  destroy  —  mountains  quaking,  hills  melted,  the 
earth  and  its  inhabitants  burning  b^ore  the  presence  of  God,  his 
anger  being  poured  forth  like  fire. 

In  this  grand  and  awful  exhibition  of  Divine  attributes  are  inter- 
mingled some  of  those  gracious  assurances  —  those  revelations  of 
other  attributes  of  Jehovah  —  which  make  Him  the  object  of  love 
and  hope,  as  well  as  of  fear.  Like  the  fringe  of  silver  upon  the  skirt 
of  a  portentous  cloud,  where  the  edging  or  light  only  makes  the  roll- 
ing blackness  beneath  more  black,  they  are  intended,  by  the  antithe- 
sis, to  make  the  dismal  ruin  which  these  threatenings  denounce  still 
more  palpable.  Thus,  God's  slowness  to  anger  will  make  that 
anger  only  the  more  fearful  when  it  comes.  It  will  be  the  bursting 
of  a  flood  sweeping  with  more  destructive  violence,  because  it  has 
been  pent  up  from  an  earlier  overflow,  and  raised  to  a  higher  head, " 


EEaMON. 


So  the  Apostle  Paul  represents  the  despisers  of  God's  goodness  and 
long-suflfering  and  forbearance,  as  heaping  up  to  themselves  wrath 
against  the  day  of  wrath  and  of  the  revelation  of  the  righteous 
judgment  of  God.  In  like  manner,  the  language  of  the  text,  while 
it  asserts  the  Divine  benevolence  in  the  safety  given  to  those  who 
trust  in  Him,  admonishes  us  by  the  contrast,  how  hopeless,  how 
remediless,  must  be  the  ruin  of  those  who  not  only  have  no  security 
in  God,  but^  must  even  meet  Him  as  an  enemy,  in  unequal  contest 
with  the  Omnipotent,  hke  the  crackling  thorns  resisting  the  fire,  or 
the  dust  of  the  summer  threshing-floor  the  whirlwind. 

But  it  is  not  our  purpose  to-day  to  consider  the  views  thus  placed 
in  contrast  with  the  text,  but  the  text  itself  as  thus  related  to  the 
other  representation  of  which  it  forms  a  part.  Thus  viewed,  it  con- 
tains a  great  truth,  always  precious,  and  specially  applicable  to  our 
present  circumstances.  It  represents  to  our  view  the  good  man ; 
and  thus  considered,  it  does  three  things :  It  gives  us,  1st,  an  obvi- 
ous fact  in  his  outer  condition ;  2d,  a  distinctive  description  of  his 
character  ;  and  3d,  an  inestimable  privilege  of  his  inner  life.  In  other 
words,  we  have  three  great  facts  respecting  the  pious  man,  relating, 
the  first,  to  the  circumstances  pf  his  being — another  to  his  character — 
and  the  third  to  his  spiritual  immunity.  As  to  his  outer  condition, 
he  is  subject  to  trouble ;  as  to  his  character,  he  puts  his  trust  in 
Ood;  as  to  his  high  privilege,  his  security  is  in  God  himself. 

And  first :  The  good  man  is  subject  to  trouble.  To  say  this  of 
him  is  involved  in  saying  that  he  is  a  man.  Man  is  born  to  trouble 
as  the  sparks  fly  upwards.  In  other  words,  this  fact  in  his  experi- 
ence occurs  as  certainly  as  the  sequences  of  a  law  of  nature.  It 
results  from  causes  in  himself  and  from  causes  external  to  himself. 
Look  at  him  intellectually :  his  wisdom  and  his  folly  ahke  .occasion 
trouble.  "Ho  that  increases  knowledge  increases  sorrow  ;".  and  if  in 
some  sense,  and  to  some  extent,  "ignorance  is  bliss,"  in  another 
sense,  and  to  a  greater  extent,  it  is  the  prolific  source  of  dangerous 
error,  of  mischievous  blundering,  of  painful  privation,  and  often  of 
remediless  damage. — Look  at  his  capacities  of  enjoyment :  each  of 
them,  in  turn,  is  as  liable  to  become  the  inlet  of  suffering  as  it  is  the 
inlet  of  enjoyment.  His  desires  make  him  vulnerable  by  disappoint- 
ment. His  hopes  are  balanced  by  his  fears.  His  love  for  others  not 
only  endows  him  with  the  wealth  of  exquisite  satisfactions,  but 


SERMOIS'.  7 

makes  him  "  poor  indeed,"  when  the  just  expectations  of  friendshij> 
or  of  conjugal  or  parental  affection  are  cruelly  mortified  by  the  mani- 
fested unworthiness  of  their  objects,  or  are  rudely  annihilated  by  the 
sundering  blow  of  death. — Look  at  him  physically :  What  sense 
may  not  become  the  avenue  of  pain  and  even  of  agony  ?  The  won- 
drous eye,  catching  a  thousand  perfect  pictures  in  an  hour  upon  its 
retina,  for  the  advantage  and  amusement  of  its  owner,  becomes  too 
sensitive  for  light,  and  must  withdraw  from  the  bright  world  into 
artificial  darkness ;  nay,  it  becomes  shrouded  in  a  perpetual  night ; 
and  the  strong  man,  who  was  wont  to  go  where  he  pleased,  now 
threads  his  gloomy  way,  led  by  a  child  or  a  dog.  Again,  the  nerve 
which,  erewhile,  in  its  normal  state,  quietly  and  pleasantly  subserved 
its  purpose,  in  the  functions  of  sensation  and  perception  and  motion, 
now  starts  into  a  fierce  activity,  as  though  it  had  acquired  a  serpent's 
fang  and  venom,  or  falling  into  feebleness,  leaves  its  victim,  like  Tan- 
talus, before  the  stream  which  he  could  not  reach,  without  hearing 
in  an  atmosphere  of  music  or  in  the  full  current  of  conversation,  of 
which  he  cannot  partake ;  or,  again,  sinking  into  an  excitable  inaction, 
it  leaves  the  stalwart  limb  to  drop  like  lead  —  cutoff  from  the  con- 
trol of  the  will  —  dead  before  its  time. 

If  we  look  at  man  in  his  connection  with  others,  the  picture  is  still 
the  same.  Look  at  him  in  connection  with  inferiors  and  dependants. 
How  much  of  trouble  is  often  commingled  with  the  feeling  of  respon- 
sibility. To  provide  for  substantial  wants,  is  to  many  the  carking 
care  which  eats  out  the  enjoyment  of  the  home  of  poverty.  To  give 
the  needed  counsel,  to  present  the  right  example,  to  bring  to  bear 
the  true  persuasions,  and  at  the  right  time,  by  which  the  young  —  for 
instance,  even  one's  own  children  —  may  be  moved  to  enter,  and  enter- 
ing, to  pui-sue  the  path  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  oh,  how  great  a  care 
and  trouble  is  this.  And  then  to  know  that,  in  any  case,  you  have 
not  done  all  that  you  might  have  done,  and  to  witness  the  deleteri- 
ous consequences  of  neglect,  constantly  going  on  and  mingling  with 
the  history  of  a  character  and  life,  which,  but  for  your  failure  in  duty, 
might  have  been  so  different  and  so  much  better  —  this,  surely,  is  an 
item  worthy  of  the  name  on  that  list  of  troubles  which  make  up 
individual  human  history.  Then,  too,  our  connexion  with  others 
involves  our  contact  with  the  bad.  Our  property,  our  reputation, 
our  liberty,  our  lives,  are  not  out  of  the  reach  of  avaricious,  deceitful, 


8  SERMON. 

bloody  men.  The  fraudulent  and  false  individual  may  make  us  the 
victim  of  his  wiles.  Unjust  popular  opinion  may  rob  us  of, our  good 
name.  Hostile  armies  may  desolate  our  homes;  may  precipitate 
families  from  opulence  to  poverty ;  may  cause  female  delicacy  which 
the  very  winds  of  heaven  never  touched  rudely,  to  fly  into  the 
strangeness  of  a  strange  land  to  escape  the  contact  of  a  brutal  sol- 
diery, without  respect  for  the  sanctity  of  temples,,  the  infirmity  of 
age,  or  the  purity  of  woman.  Before  them  the  land  may  have  been 
an  Eden ;  but  behind  them  is  a  desolate  wilderness.  The  king  of 
Israel,  left  to  the  dreadful  selection  between  three  evils  —  war,  pes- 
tilence and  famine  —  does  not  hesitate  to  pray  that  he  and  his  peo- 
ple may  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  men. 

But  even  external  nature,  ministering  so  abundantly  to  our  good, 
may  yet  occasion  our  trouble.  The  horse  which  accelerates  and  facil- 
itates his  rider's  locomotion,  may  yet  break  his  limb  or  destroy  his 
life.  The  fire  which  cooks  our  food  and  cheers  the  hearthstone,  also 
burns  our  abodes.  The  rains  which  fructify  our  fields,  raise  the 
booming  currents  which  sweep  away  their  richest  products.  .The 
air  which  feeds  the  fire  of  life,  enters  our  vitals  charged  with  the 
deadly  miasm. 

Such  is  man  as  man,  of  few  days,  but  full  of  trouble,  and  there- 
fore such  is  the  pious  man.  His  piety  constitutes  no  exemption  from 
the  universal  liability.  Nay,  there  are  reasons  which  explain  why 
the  voice  of  inspiration  declares,  "  many  are  the  afliictions  of  the 
righteous;"  as  if  it  had  said,  the  'good  man  is  emphatically  the  man 
of  trouble  ;  for,  first,  the  range  of  the  objects  from  which  his  troubles 
arise  is  enlarged.  It  takes  in  not  only  the  moral,  but  the  spiritual. 
It  embraces  not  only  the  life  that  now  is,  but  the  life  which  is  to 
come.  Sitij  to  him,  is  not  a  fiction,  but  a  reality  —  a  sore,  grievous 
reality,  outweighing  all  others ;  and  whether  seen  in  himself  or  in 
others,  he  mourns  over  it  with  a  sorrow  which  is  typified  only  by  the 
bitter  distress  of  him  that  mourns  over  a  first-born.  Again,  the  sen- 
,  sibility  of  the  good  man's  nature  is  more  refined  and  exquisite.  For 
this  reason,  Jesus,  the  immaculate  man,  suflered  from  mere  contact 
•with  men,  with  an  intensity  beyond  our  comprehension ;  ^nd  good 
men,  as  they  are  assimilated  to  the  image  of  his  purity,  sufier  from 
like  causes  in  proportionate  degree.  In  addition  to  this,  the  opposi- 
tion from  without  is  enhanced.    He  who  lets  men  alone  in  their  sins 


SERMON.  '9 

and  vices,  is  sure  to  escape  that  opposition  and  its  attendant  trouble 
which  he  excites  who  cannot  let  them  alone.  He  undertakes  to  do 
good  to  the  disobedient  and  rebellious  ;  and  even  if  he  does  not  incur 
their  malediction,  yet  in  many  cases  he  is  compelled  to  witness  the 
failure  of  his  efiforts  —  efforts  which  leave  those  in  whose  behalf  they 
were  put  forth,  more  unimpressible  than  before  —  and  he  takes  up  the 
lamentation  of  the  prophet,  "  I  have  labored  in  vain ;  I  have  spent 
my  strength  for  nought  and  in  vain." — And  a  fourth  reason  for  this 
feature  in  the  experience  of  good  men  is,  that  trouble  is  a  part  of 
the  designed  discipline  which  schools  them  for  higher  virtue,  and  fits 
them  for  Heaven-. 

But  it  is  time  to  pass  to  our  text's  distinctive  description  of  a  good 
man's  character  —  "The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  trust  in  HimP 

There  is  one  characteristic  sentiment  common  to  the  good  every- 
where. Angels  in  Heaven,  saints  in  glory,  and  saints  on  earth,  trust 
in  God.  There  is  a  spurious  religious  trust,  which  is  not  trust  in 
God.  The  trust  of  the  deist,  who  reposes  in  the  assurance  that  God 
is  too  good  to  punish  sin,  is  trust  in  a  fictitious  being,  and  therefore 
no  trust  in  God,  The  trust  of  the  Pharisee,  while  he  thanked  God 
that  he  was  not  as  other  m§n,  was  a  trust  in  himself.  So  now  men 
may  trust  that  they  are  sharers  in  the  Divine  favor,  who  yet  do  not 
trust  in  God ;  because  there  is  nothing  in  what  God  has  said  or 
done  which  warrants  the  conclusion  that  they  do  share  His  favor. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  an  actual  trust  in  God.  It  is  an 
important  question,  "What  is  it?" 

The  idea  itself  is  a  simple  idea,  incapable  of  definition,  not  to  be 
understood  without  experience  of  the  thing  signified  by  it,  and  capa- 
pable  only  of  being  illustrated  by  analogous  cases.  It  is  the  senti- 
ment which  lies  back  of  our  belief  in  cases  where  we  believe  only 
because  of  our  corfidence  in  the  integrity  and  veracity  of  our  inform- 
ant. It  is  the  sentiment  which  lies  back  of  our  repose,  when  we 
have  confided  our  property  and  our  very  lives  to  the  hands  of  another, 
and  yet  not  the  very  tbionest  shadow  of  a  misgiving  ever  passes  over 
our  spirit.  It  is  the  5=piiit  of  the  child  which  has  stood  pale  and 
shrinking  at  the  entrance  of  a  long  dark  passage,  but  putting  its 
little  hand  into  its  father's  hand,  walks  beside  him  with  the  assur- 
ance of  perfect  safety.  It  is  the  spirit  of  affiance,  the  in-forming 
essence  of  love,  the  secret  of  harmony,  the  very  soul  of  union  between 


10  SERMON. 

spiritual  beings.  Trust,  trust,  beautiful  word  —  blessed  thing !  All 
the  society  of  earth  that  is  worth  the  name,  is  so  because  of  its  pres- 
ence. Heaven  itself  is  held  together  in  beauteous  accord  by  its 
blessed  potency.  It  was  the  loss  of  trust  which  carried  our  first 
mother  to  the  forbidden  tree.  It  was  distrust  of  God  which  makes 
the  blackness  of  darkness  forever  of  the  infernal  pit.  And  it  is  dis- 
trust of  God  which  perpetuates  the  ungodliness  of  earth,  and  gives 
to  hurnan  degradation  and  misery  their  deepest  shadows. 

Trust  in  God  is  exercised  toward  Jehovah,  considered  in  Himself. 
It  rejoices  that  he  is  just  what  he  is,  and  the  soul  which  feels  it  would 
rather  yield  up  its  own  existence  than  touch  an  attribute  of  the  infi- 
nitely glorious  and  perfect  "I  Am."  Exercised  toward  God,  m  vietv 
of  what  he  has  done,  it  receives  his  declarations  with  unquestioning 
confidence  —  as  has  been  said,  "  takes  God  at  His  word."  It  rehes 
upon  His  promises  as  a  sufficient  ground  for  hopes  to  be  realized 
by  what  shall  occur  only  within  the  Divine  mind,  (and  so  of  hopes 
of  forgiveness  and  acceptance,)  or  in  that  unknown  region  which  lies 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  earth  and  time,  (and  so  of  hopes  of  the 
resurrection  and  an  everlasting  abode  with  God  in  glory.)  It  is  this 
trust  in  God  which  underlies  the  believer's  faith  in  Christ.  Guilty, 
self-condemned,  self-despairing,  seeing  by  the  hght  of  reason,  that 
there  is  nothing  before  him  but  certain,  inevitable,  overwhelming 
destruction,  he  lays  hold,  by  this  faith,  on  the  hope  set  before  him  by 
the  Gospel.  As  no  truth  is  so  important,  so  none  appears  to  him  so 
gloriously  sure  as  that  which  supports  the  promises  of  Divine  mercy. 
Believing  that  God's  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts,  nor  God's 
ways  as  our  ways,  he  springs  up  to  the  unutterable  assurance  of  a 
Divine  pardon,  and  rejoices  with  a  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 
"With  this  experience  he  is  now  prepared  for  a  new  interpretation  of 
God's  providences.  Calamities  may  thicken  around,  but  to  the 
upright  there  ariseth  a  light  in  the  darkness.    "  Content,"  he  sings^ 

"  Content  where'er  thy  hand  shall  lead, 

The  darkest  path  I'll  tread,  , 

Joyful  \7ill  leave  these  mortal  shores, 
.     And  mingle  with  the  dead." 

"  When  dreadful  guilt  is  done  away, 
No  other  fears  we  know ; 
That  hand  which  scatters  pardons  down 
Shall  crowns  of  life  bestow." 


SERMOIT.  11 

And  this  brings  us  to  our  third  fact,  the  security  of  the  pious  man. 
The  Lord  is  good. —  a  stronghold  in  time  of  trouble.  The  imagery 
is  derived  from  military  affairs.  The  stronghold  was  the  means  of 
defence  against  the  assaults  of  enemies.  It  was  sometimes  arti- 
ficially constructed  ;  it  was  sometimes  naturally  provided,  as  in  the 
height  of  mountain  fastnesses,  inaccessible  to  an  invader.  How  pre- 
cious to  the  poor,  persecuted  Albigenses  were  those  Alpine  retreats, 
where  the  feet  of  their  oppressors  could  not  come.  But  here  God 
himself  is  the  fortress,  the  rock  of  absolute  safety.  "  The  name  of 
the  Lord  is  a  strong  tower ;  the  righteous  runneth  into  it  and  is 
safe."  "  God  is  our  refuge  and  strength,  a  very  present  help  in 
trouble  :  therefore  will  we  not  fear,  though  the  earth  be  removed, 
and  though  the  mountains  be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea ; 
though  the  waters  thereof  roar  and  be  troubled  ;  though  the  moun- 
tains shake  with  the  swelling  thereof."  Let  God  defend,  and  what 
harm  could  a  universe  arrayed  against  us  do  ?  And  this  is  the 
defence  of  every  behever.  Let  human  malignity  bring  the  battery 
of  all  untoward  circumstances  —  let  infernal  malignity  spring  its 
mines  of  deepest  hate  —  yet  the  believer  in  Jesus  stands  secure.  He 
is  dead,  and  his  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God ;  no  enemy  can  reach 
him  but  through  God,  his  hiding-place.  Blessed  security  1  Kept  by 
the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto  salvation. 

In  this  connection  let  me  say  it  is  not  only  the  power  and  veracity 
of  God  which  produce  this  security ;  it  originates  equally  in  the  ten- 
derness of  Divine  love.  God  loves  the  trusting  heart  for  its  very 
trust.  Did  you  never  remark  how  conspicuous  trust  moves  the 
heart  of  the  trusted  to  its  very  depths.  We  instinctively  shrink 
from  the  thought  of  wounding,  by  disappointment,  a  trusting  heart. 
The  nature  which  thus  feels,  God  has  given  us,  and  it  is  but  a  reflec- 
tion of  his  own  benignant  heart.  And  can  God  fail  the  confiding 
spirit  that  goes  to  him,  that  leans  upon  hinf,  that  says  in  the  beauti- 
ful simplicity  of  its  repose  on  the  Divine  faithfulness,  "All  my 
expectation  is  from  Him  ?"  "  My  God ;  in  him  will  I  trust  ?"  No  ! 
No  !  No !  Listen,  listen  to  the  words  of  the  Amen,  the  faithful  and 
true  Witness,  "My  sheep  hear  my  voice, and  I  know  them, and  they 
follow  me.  And  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life  ;  and  they  shall  never 
perish,  neither  shall  any  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand.  My  Father 
which  gave  them  me  is  greater  than  all,  and  none  is  able  to  pluck 


12  SERMON. 

them  out  of  my  Father's  hand."     Heaven  and  earth  may  pass  away, 
but  not  one  jot  or  one  tittle  of  these  words  shall  fail. 

We  have  thus  looked  at  the  good  man  in  his  outward  circum- 
stances—  in  his  high  character  —  in  his  certain  destiny. 

Of  such  a  man  it  is  our  pleasing,  yet  mournful  oflSce,  to  gather  up 
some  brief  memorials.  To  your  former  loved  and  revered  Pastor, 
the  doctrine  of  our  text  you  could  all  attest  as  distinctly  and  empha- 
tically applicable.  I  might,  then,  close  this  discourse,  leaving  it  to 
your  knowledge  and  feelings  to  apply  to  the  individual  case  what  I 
have  spoken  in  the  general;,  more  especially  when  I  see  not  only 
the  large  concourse  of  members  of  the  denomination  t(8»>  which  he 
belonged,  but  the  presence  of  other  pious  men  and  of  ministers  of 
other  communions,  thus  spontaneously  and  affectingly  acknowledging, 
the  great  Christian  excellence  of  our  loved  and  lamented  brother. 
But  it  is  perhaps  proper  that  I  should  add  some  expression,  however 
imperfect,  of  my  own  estimate  of  his  character  and  worth. 

Looked  at  as  a  whole,  his  character  presented  an  assemblage  of 
traits  evenly  balanced  and  smoothly  blended.  With  a  single  slight 
exceptiop,  no  quality  appeared  in  excess.  The  beholder  was 
impressed  with  the  symmetry  of  a  well-proportioned  figure,  free 
from  all  excrescence  or  distortion,  or  unsightly  development  of  a 
single  part.  He  was  calm  and  self-possessed,  but  not  cold  or  phleg- 
matic. He  was  bold  without  presumption^  decided,  but  not  obsti- 
nate. He  was  humble,  with  no  tinge  of  servility  or  sycophancy ; 
tender  and  sympathizing,  but  not  efleminate.  He  was  guileless,  and 
not  only  eschewed  but  abhorred  all  artifice  and  pretence ;  and  here 
occurred  the  slight  deficiency  to  which  I  have  alluded  —  a  "failing 
that  leaned  to  virtue's  side  "  —  th.e  confiding  generosity  of  his  nature^ 
made  him  too  slow  to  detect  guile  in  others.  He  was  exactly  and 
scrupulously  truthful,  but  he  did  not  make  candor  a  cover  for  bitter- 
ness ;  and  he  spoke  painful  truths  only  when  it  was  necessary.  He 
did  not  act  upon  impulse,  and  yet  in  all  he  did  was  seen  the  man  of 
feeling.  His  movements  were  not  those  of  a  skiflf,  one-while  with 
full-blown  sail  skudding  before  the  wind,  and,  may-be,  passing  its 
proper  point,  and  then  flapping  its  unfilled  sail  and  drifting  with  the 
current.  They  were  rather  those  of  the  steadfast  steamer,  moving 
by  a  power  from  within,  and  independent  alike  of  the  winds  and 
tides. 


SERMON.  13 

Such  was  his  character,  considered  as  a  whole.  Let  us  briefly 
contemplate"  it  in  some  of  its  parts.     And 

First.  He  was  gifted  with  that  inestimable  attribute,  strortg  com- 
mon sense.  No  one  could  form  his  acquaintance  without  perceiving 
that  he  had  come  in  contact  with  a  man  of  sound,  solid  judgment. 
In  the  general  conduct  of  life,  .this  power  qualifies  its  possessor  to 
make  a  selection  of  proper  ends,  and  to  adapt  suitable  means  to  the 
accomplishment  of  those  ends.  When  once  the  sphere  of  his  action 
is  selected,  it  keeps  hira  moving  regularly  in  his  own  orbit.  In  any 
department  of  life  its  influence  is  most  important  in  the  power  -which 
it  involves  of  forming  accurate  judgments  in  regard  to  men  —  but 
nowhere  more  important  than  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  where 
the  objects  on  which  the  workman  operates  are  human  beings,  with 
all  their  infinite  diversities  of  tastes,  capacities  and  susceptibilities. 
In  the  absence  of  this  quality,  the  occupant  of  the  ministry  may 
make  himself  the  favorite  of  a  particular  class  ;  while  between  him 
and  other  classes  there  is  very  little  contact,  and  still  less  sympathy. 
But  the  minister  who  is  endowed  as  our  lamented  brother  was,  prac- 
tically adapts  himself  to  each,  and  so  to  all.  The  work  of  adapting 
himself  to  individuals,  with  all  their  varied  and  often  opposite  cha- 
racters, is  done  as  if  by  instinct,  readily  and  successfully.  The 
instructions  of  such  a  minister  meet  the  wants  of  the  thinking  and 
the  cultivated,  and  yet  do  not  omit  to  provide  for  the  ruder  and  more 
undeveloped  class  of  minds ;  and  in  his  intercourse  he  is  alike  aa 
object  of  attraction  and  interest  to  the  energetic  and  active,  driving 
with  the  vigor  of  their  full  strength  at  the  great  objects  of  busy  life  ; 
to  the  aged,  resting  in  the  quietude  of  life's  evening;  and  to  the 
young,  with  all  their  curiosity,  their  inexperience,  and  their  fresh 
and  budding  feelings. 

Second.  Intimately  connected  with  this  was  m?ivkQdi  self -respect , 
The  absence  of  this  quality  in  those  who.  fill  the  office  of  the  sacred 
ministry,  is  seen  more  frequently  in  the  form  of  an  unseemly  levity. 
We  are  far  from  maintaining  that  there  is  anything  in  the  habits 
of  minds  engendered  by  a  proper  pursuit  of  the  minister's  work, 
which  destroys  a  minister's  relish  for  real  wit,  or  rendei*s  him  insensi- 
ble to  genuine  humor.  Nay,  we  even  believe  that  the  power  of 
pathetic  representation  is  in  a  great  degree  the  very  power  which 
perceives  the  analogies  which,  in  the  case  of  wit,  surprise  and  amuse 


14  SERMON. 

US  ;  but  with  these  admissions,  it  is  yet  true  that  there  is  a  dignity 
and  gravity  appropriate  to  the  office  which  would  even  be  oftended 
at  wit  itself,  out  of  place,  or  inordinately  indulged.  So  little  sym- 
pathy had  our  beloved  brother  for  the  temper  of  those  who  "court  a 
grin  where  they  should  woo  a  soul,"  that  I  remember  to  have  heard 
him  (when  himself  but  a  beginner)  mention,  with  strong  disapproba- 
tion, some  instance  of  levity  in  an  announcement  from  the  pulpit, 
which  had  passed  under  his  own  eye.  To  a  mind  like  his,  the  office 
he  filled  was  invested  with  too  much  solemn  responsibility,  and  was 
connected  with  associations  too  sacred,  and  contemplated  issues  too 
important  ajid  tremendous,  to  allow  his  exercising  it  in  any  other 
spirit  than  that  of  profound  gravity  and  self-control.  Entering  it  in 
the  very  greenness  of  his  youth,  he  magnified  his  office,  and  showed 
that  he  had  felt  the  weight  of  the  Apostle's  admonition  to  a  young 
minister  of  early  times  :  "  Let  no  man  despise  thy  youth."  Through 
the  course  of  more  than  thirty  years  such  was  the  manner  in  which 
he  always  appeared.  Far  removed  from  every  thing  little,  as  from 
everything  low,  he  moved  among  you  a  man  of  God  —  without  van- 
ity, but  full  of  self-respect,  undesignedly  challenging  and  winning  the 
respect  of  all. 

There  is  a  gravity  in  some  characters  which  is  the  result  of  other 
qualities,  drawn  with  a  sort  of  mathematical  rigidity.  The  impas- 
sive features  of  such  persons  never  catch  a  smile  but  as  the  rock 
does  the  sunshine,  reflecting  but  never  feeling  it,  the  same  impervi- 
ous, unsoftened  material  before  and  afterwards.  Such  was  not  the 
gravity  of  our  brother  ;  for, 

Third.  His  heart  was  the  abode  of  deep  and  tender  sympathies. 
His  self-respect,  as  we  have  defined  it,  being  anything  else  than  a 
form  of  selfishness,  sprung  from  a  source  which  yielded  equally  a 
true  respect  for  others.  He  could  not  have  been  placed  in  circum- 
stances in  which  he  would  have  felt  that  any  being  having  the 
human  nature  and  thrown  in  his  way  was  yet  devoid  of  all  claim 
upon  him.  His  bosom  glowed  with  a  genuine  philanthropy.  It 
was  under  the  influence  of  such  feelings,  quickened  by  the  power  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  that  he  yielded  himself  to  the  work  of  the  ministry. 
He  could  not  but  have  seen  that  this  was  a  surrender  of  reasonable 
prospects  of  worldly  gain.  -  In  any  other  employment,  possessed  of 
the  advantages  of  patrimony,  social  position,  vigorons  health,  educa- 


SERMON.  15 

tion  and  mental  energy,  the  way  was  open  before  him  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  wealth  and  its  attendant  advantages.  But  upon  such  pros- 
pect, he  turned  his  back,  to  take  his  place  with  an  ill-requited  class  ; 
because  with  them  he  could  best  indulge  the  holy  passion  of  love  to 
the  souls  of  men. 

His  affections  exhibited  themselves  in  uncommon  beauty,  as  devel- 
oped in  the  domestic  and  the  more  private  social  relations. 

As  a  son.  His  filial  dutifulness  was  conspicuous.  I  well  remem- 
ber, in  my  own  case,  the  desire  to  see  his  excellent  and  venerated 
father,  produced  by  the  affectionate  and  reverential  manner  in  which 
the  son  was  accustomed  to  refer  to  him. 

As  a  brother.  He  had  a  heart  to  feel  to  the  full  the  force  of  the 
motive  by  which  Jacob  sought  to  bind  his  sons  in  brotherly  accord. 
Utterly  foreign  to  his  nature  was  the  imperious  spirit  which  some- 
times in  an  elder  brother  makes  the  fraternal  bond  chafe  the  feelings 
of  younger  members  of  the  circle.  His  generous,  sympathizing 
nature  gave  it  at  once  the  strength,  the  beauty  and  the  softness  of  a 
silken  cord. 

As  a  parent.  He  reigned  in  bis  family  by  the  sweet,  silent  influ- 
ence of  reciprocated  affections.  He  taught  his  children  to  respect 
themselves  by  the  respect  he  paid  them.  It  was  delightful  to  wit- 
ness the  beautiful  affectionateness  of  his  manner,  and  the  blended 
confidence  and  respect  which  was  its  natural  return.  The  last  action 
of  his  life  was  the  mission  of  parental  solicitude,  which  carried  him 
to  the  distant  bedside  of  a  wounded  son  —  to  be  borne  back,  alas  ! 
by  that  very  son,  to  his  own  last  resting  place. 

As  a  hushand.  It  would  be  difficult  to  over-state  the  realitj 
respecting  his  conjugal  affection.  The  most  considerate  and  delicate 
attentions  marked  his  married  life.  He  never  forgot  for  a  moment 
the  happiness  .which  ha  d  been  committed  to  his  keeping.  Nay,  to 
promote  it,  he  sacrificed  cheerfully  other  occasions  and  means  of 
enjoyment  which  he  dearly  valued. 

As  a  friend.  I  am  entitled  to  speak  of  him  from  an  experience 
of  more  than  thirty  years.  In  all  that  time  I  never  saw  anything 
but  the  most  perfect  frankness  and  the  most  genuine  cordiality. 
Thrown  together  when  we  were  each  on  the  threshold  of  manhood, 
be  honored  me  with  his.  confidence ;  and,  though  several  long  inter- 
vals oi  absence  occurred,  I  never  met  him  without  perceiving  that 


16  SERMON. 

the  attachment  of  youth  was  as  green  and  vigorous  as  ever.  Not 
one  hour  of  shyness  or  indifference  ever  marred  our  intercourse ;  and 
ia  that  intercourse  he  was  as  pure  and  devoted  as  he  was  frank  and 
cordial.  I  never  heard  a  sentiment  from  his  lips  which  would  have 
seemed  unfit  upon  a  dying  bed. 

This  brings  us  naturally  to  remark  upon, 

Fourth.  His  deep  religious  spirit.  This  was  apparent  (1.)  In  his 
conscientiousness.  What  he  believed  to  be  right  he  did,  irrespective 
of  consequences.  Desiring  the  esteem  of  good  men,  he  never  swerved 
a  hair's  breadth  from  the  line  of  acknowledged  duty,  in  order  to 
secure  the' good  opinion  of  any  one.  He  was  no  popularity-hunter. 
No  man,  indeed,  in  the  districts  where  he  had  lived  and  labored,  was 
held  in  higher  repute ;  but  reputation  came, to  him  without  his  seek- 
ing—  it  was  the  attendant  shadow  of  living  worth.  If  others 
deserved  blame,  painful  though  it  was  to  his  sensitive  nature,  he  yet 
administered  the  needed  rebuke.  I  remember  to  have  heard  him 
administer  such  a  rebuke  to  a  popular  candidate,  who  was  present  at 
an  Associational  meeting,  and  in  the  excess  of  his  political  zeal  was 
turning  a  great  rehgious  opportunity  into  an  occasion  for  promoting 
mere  secular  ends.  Our  brother  felt  it  to  be  wrong,  and  at  the  risk 
of  offending 'he  faithfully  remonstrated  against  the  evil.  He  des- 
canted less  freely  and  frequently  than  some  others  upon  topics  on 
which  he  differed  from  other  Christians;  but  this  did  not  proceed 
from  a  want  of  moral  courage,  or  from  an  imperfect  action  of  his 
conscience.  He  did  not  abstain  from  -any  indifference  to  the  truth, 
or  from  a  pusillanimous  desire  to  avoid  the  consequences  of  asserting 
it.  He  abstained,  because  he  rightly  estimated  the  strength  of  pre- 
judice, even  in  good  men,  and  appreciated  the  obstacle  which  it 
opposes  to  the  entrance  of  truth. 

(2.)  His  deeply  religious  spirit  was  apparent  in  his  habitual 
devoutness.  He  read  his  Bible  not  as  an  intellectual  pastime,  but 
to  feed  the  spirit  of  devotion,  and  he  gave  himself  to  prayer.  It  was 
impossible  to  hear  his  earnest  pleadings,  his  earnest,  child-like  breath- 
ings into  the  ear  of  God,  without  feeling  assured  that,  like  Enoch,  he 
"  walked  with  God." 

(3.)  His  piety  gave  an  unction  to  his  preaching.  It  sustained  his 
earnestness  and  gave  power  to  his  persuasions.  In  the  work  of  the 
ministry  he  delighted  as  in  a  native  element.    In  the  judgment  of 


SERMOir.  17 

others  he  may  have  been  too  inattentive  to  his  tenaporal  interests, 
but  it  was  because  the  love  of  Christ  constrained  him.  "  Never," 
says  one  who  knew  him  most  intimately,  "  did  he  seem  so  happy  as 
when  endeavoring  to  lead  sinners  to  Jesus ;"  and  the  testimony  of 
judicious  observers  is  that  the  churches  under  his  care  showed  the 
effect  of  his  pious  labors  in  the  increased  and  sustained  tone  of  their 
spirituality.  Men  not  given  to  hasty  utterances  have  said  that  they 
never  knew  a  minister  more  deeply  and  constantly  devoted  to  his 
pious  work ;  and  now,  after  several  years  of  absence  from  the  State, 
there  is  many  a  house  in  which  the  news  of  his  death  has  awakened 
an  exquisite  sense  of  bereavement,  and  the  thought  that  he  is  no 
more  to  be  welcomed  at  the  threshold,  brings  with  it  a  painful 
gloom.  • 

I  *have  thus  presented  an  outline  sketch  of  an  amiable  and  admi- 
rable ministerial  character,  a  full  •  portraiture  of  which  would  require 
more  individual  facts  than  I  command. 

I  have  spoken  of  him  under  great  disadvantages,  growing  out  of 
the  fact  that  the  separateness  of  our  respective  fields  of  labor  cut  me 
off  for  many  years  from  personal  observation  of  the  minute  details  of 
his  life ;  and  the  health  of  his  family  during  a  large  portion  of  these 
years  prevented  those  reunions  at  our  annual  religious  assemblings 
which  afford  to  ministers  the  precious  opportunity  of  burnishing  into 
fresh  brightness  the  recollections  of  early  years,  ai}d  sharing  with 
each  other  their  experiences  in  the  work  of  the  Lord.  The  circum- 
stances, too,  since  I  received  the  request  to  perform  this  service,  have 
not  allowed  my  availing  myself,  to  any  extent,  of  information  to  be 
derived  from  others. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  have  spoken  with  the  advantage  of  address- 
ing those  who  were  familiar  with  his  life  and  character,  and  who,  if 
the  qualities  of  his  character  have  been  presented  in  the  most  gene- 
ral and  therefore  least  impressive  way,  were  yet  able  to  vivify  every 
vague  statement,  and  to  fill  up  with  many  and  many  an  apt  illustra- 
tion what  the  speaker  had  presented  in  general  terms.  We  are  in 
the  very  neighborhood  where  his  little  feet  were  taught  to  trace 
their  fearly  steps  to  the  house  of  God ;  where  he  first  uttered  in  the 
ear  of  God's  people  the  grateful  invitation,  "  Come  and  hear,  all  ye 
that  fear  God,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  he  has  done  for  my  soul  f 
where  he  first  put  on  Christ  in  that  solemn  rite,  which,  by  a  definite 


IS  SERMON. 

external  act,  declares  the  subject's  belief  in  the  spiritual  resun-ection 
of  the  soul  and  the  future  resurrection  of  the  body,  founded  on  the 
death  and  resurrection  of  the  Lord  Jesu3 ;  where  he  first  warned 
sinners  of  the  wrath  to  come,  and  lifted  np  his  voice  tenderly  to  per- 
suade them  to  fly  to  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world  ;  where  venerable  men  of  God,  Belcher  and  Todd,  Johnson 
and  Rice,  took  part  in  his  solemn  induction  into  the  ranks  of  fully 
accredited  ministers  ;  where,  through  long  successive  years,  he  has 
done  the  work,  and  borne  the  trials,  and  enjoyed'  the  rewards,  of  a 
faithful,  zealous,  blameless,  useful  minister  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

How  many  crowding  recollections  rise  in  your  memories  at  the 
recital  of  these  simple  words.  One  remembers  that  the  words  of  our 
dear  departed  brother  once  entered  his  souj  as  a  barbed  arrow,  there 
to  remain  deep-infixed  until  in  the  process  of  a  genuine  repentance 
the  hand  of  Divine  mercy  "  solicited  the  dart "  and  healed  the 
•wounded  spirit.  Another  recalls  that  when  his  soul  was  cast  down 
•within  hip,  and  God  and  man  were  joined  in  his  terrible  condemna- 
tion ;  when  all  behind  was  shame  and  all  before  was  fear,  the  assur- 
ing voice,  now  alas  !  to  be  heard  no  more,  uttered  the  words,  of  gra- 
cious promise  —  when,  lo!  the  darkness  broke,  and  Christian  hope^ 
like  a  golden  dawn,  burst  upon  the  soul.  Here  one  remembers  that 
•when  hesitating  and  faltering  about  the  first  step  in  a  public  Chris- 
tian profession,  that  well-known,  faithful  voice  chided  the  delay  or 
removed  the  stumbling-block  which  seemed  to  close  up  the  path  of 
duty.'  The  memory  of  another  recalls  some  erring  step  retraced 
under  the  influence  of  a  kind  rebuke ;  it  may  be  some  delinquency 
corrected  at  his  earnest  exhortation,  some  sore  temptation  broken,  or 
some  burden  of  affliction  lightened  by  his  true  and  tender  words. 
To  how  many  of  you  are  all  the  sweet  associations  of  your  wedded 
life  connected  with  the  loved  presence  of  him  who  invoked  God's 
blessings  on  the  nuptial  bands.  Many  of  you  he  baptized — you 
and  your  children  —  and  to  many  of  you  he  was  the  kind,  tender^ 
sympathizing  friend,  who  stood  with  you  at  the  bedside  of  your 
sick  and  dying,  and  helped  the  faith  of  your  departed  kindred,  as 
they  went  down  into  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death. 

He  is  not  here  to-day  to  ^eak  to  you  in  those  tones  so  familiar 
that  you  can  easily  imagine  them  reverberating  along  these  walls. 
But  he  speaks  to  you  in  the  varied  reminiscences  of  a  well-spent  life, 


SERMOK.  19 

of  a  faithful  ministry.  Nay,  he  speaks  to  you  in  the  text  which  we 
have  been  considering  this  day ;  for  it  was  selected  by  himself  for 
this  occasion.  The  selectioD  of  such  a  text  is  an  exhibition  in  death 
of  the  beautiful  humility  of  his  life.  Other  passages  would  have 
afforded  the  preacher  a  more  natural  starting  point  for  a  eulogy  of 
the  dead.  But  in  the  spirit'  of  his  whole  ministry,  which  aimed  not 
at  self-aggrandizement,  but  at  the  exaltation  of  his  Lord  and  Master, 
anticipating,  as  he  could  not  but  do,  that  his  death  would  be  made 
the  occasion  of  public  religious  services,  his  meek  and  humble  spirit 
chose  as  the  theme  of  discourse  a  passage  of  the  word  of  God  which 
would  allow  of  an  allusion  to  himself  only  so  far  as  it  might  tend  to 
magnify  the  grace  of  God.  Thus  considered,  the  text  is  instructive 
as  well  by  its  silence  as  by  what  it  says.  On  the  one  hand  it  says, 
"Let  God  alone  be  exalted."  On  the  other,  it  points  us  to  the  life 
and  the  death  of  our  lamented  brother,  only  as  occasions  which 
Divine  Providence  has  employed  as  a  new  setting  for  the  blessed 
truth,  "  The  Lord  is  good,"  <fec. 

Thus  considered,  the  text  comes  to  us  with  a  solemn  and  tender 
emphasis,  as  reminding  us,  in  various  relations,  of  a  great  and  vital 
truth. 

To  those  of  you  who  may  be  numbered  with  the  heretofore  impen- 
itent and  disobedient  hearers  of  the  Gospel,  he  seems  to  me  to  speak 
with  the  energy  and  concern  of  a  dying  man ;  and.  his  language 
seems  to  be,  "  I  see  you  involved  in  a  condition  of  misery  which 
language  is  inadequate  to  describe.  The  state  of  a  soul,  polluted 
by  sin,  and  under  the  condemnation  of  God's  holy  law,  is  a  cause  of 
trouble  that  transcends  all  others.  But,  though  horrible,  it  is  not 
hopeless.  The  infinite  goodness  of  God  has  provided  an  adequate 
relief.  *  The  name  of  the  Lord  is  a  strong  tower :  the  righteous 
runneth  into  it  and  is  safe.'  '  The  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  seek 
and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.'  'There  is  now  no  condem- 
nation to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus.'  This  trouble  I  once 
realized,  and  this  relief  I  once  found,  and  now  I  preach  to  you, 
dying,  the  same  mighty  Deliverer  whom  I  preached  to  you  livings 
Fly  !  oh !  fly  to  the  stronghold,  ye  prisoners  of  hope."  And  if  any 
of  you  have  turned  away  your  ears  from  the  words  which  fell  from' 
his  living  lips,  oh  !  will  you  not  hear,  as  descending  into  the  grave 
he  makes  one  more  last  effort  to  save  your  souls  ? 


20 


SERMON. 


But  another  class  was  before  his  mind's  eye ;  and  rememberino' 
that  the  children  of  God  are  destined  to  sufter  tribulation,  his  bene- 
volent heart  yearning  towards  those  before  whom  he  had  gone  in 
and  out,  ministering  the  word  of  God,  he  breathes  out  his  spirit  in 
one  last  tender  message,  as  if  he  had  said,  "  Brethren  in  Christ,  I 
think  of  you  in  all  your  diversified  distresses,  but,  oh !  remember  that 
there  is  a  Rock  higher  than  we.  I  have  found  it  so  in  all  my  Hfe, 
and  realize  it  gloriously  in  my  death.  Parental  affection  carried  me 
through  an  anxious  journey,  to  find  myself  arrested  by  disease,  far, 
far  from  home,  in  the  midst  of  strangers,  to  meet  my  death  in  cir- 
cumstances that  I  never  contemplated  as  the  circumstances  of  my 
last  hour.  But,  blessed  be  God  !  '  He  will  never  leave  me  nor  for- 
sake me.'  The  tender  hands  which  would  so  lovingly  have  minis- 
tered around  my  couch  at  home,  are  not  here  indeed,  but  underneath 
me  are  the  everlasting  arms  and  the  etefeal  God  is  my  refuge. 
With  you  I  have  often  sung,  and  now  I  realize  it : 

*  How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord, 
Is  laid  for  your  faith  iu  his  excellent  word : 
"What  more  can  He  say  than  to  you  He  has  said, 
You  who  unto  Jesus  for  refuge  have  fled  I 
*  In  every  condition  —  in  sickness,  in  health, 
In  poverty's  vale,  or  abounding  in  wealth, 
At  home  or  abroad,  on  the  land,  on  the  sea  — 
As  .your. days  may  demand,  shall  your  strength  ever  be. 
'  The  soul  that  on  Jesus  has  leaned  for  repose, 
I  will  not,  I  will  not,  desert  to  its  foes  : 
That  soul,  though  all  hell  should  endeavor  to  shake, 
I'll  never,  no  1  never,  no !  never  forsake.' " 

"The  Lord  is  good,  a  stronghold  in  the  day  of  trouble;  and  He 
knoweth  them  that  trust  in  him." 

Methinks  I  see  him  summoning  up  his  heart  to  the  highest  exer- 
cise of  faith  and  patience,  while  thinking  of  the  home  doomed  to 
the  desolation  of  widowhood  and  orphanage.  He  reminds  them  that 
the  Father  of  the  fatherless  and  the  God  of  the  widow  is  God  in  his 
holy  habitation.  Trouble  deep,  peculiar,  heart-piercing,  is  coming 
upon  them,  but  yet  he  sees  it  as  a  trial  which  by  the  grace  of  God 
shall  only  make  doubly  precious  the  resources  of  consolation  found 
in  the  promises  and  the  presence  of  a  faithful  and  unchanging  God. 
As  if  he  had  said,  "My  stricken  family,  the. darkness  of  a  hitherto 
unknown  sorrow  will  settle  upon  you,  but  there  is  light  even  in  that 
darkness.  Will  not  she  who  has  been  the  light  of  my  eyes  look 
yet.evea  more  steadily  and  confidently  into  the  reconciled. counte- 


SERMON.  21 

nance  of  Him  who  has  said,  '  Let  thy  widows  trust  in  me ;'  and  will 
not  each  one  of  my  beloved  children  open  the  ear  of  the  soul  to 
God's  gracious  voice  as  he  says,  '  Wilt  thou  not  from  this  time  say 
unto  me,  '  My  Father,  thou  art  the  guide  of  my  youth  ? ' " 

And  doubtless  .there  was  another  view  not  excluded  from  his 
attention  and  concern  by  his  circumstances  as  a  dying  man.  As  a 
Christian  and  patriot,  he  was  alive  to  the  naerits  of  the  struggle  which 
his  beloved  country  was  making  against  violence  and  wrong.  The 
very  occasion  of  his  visit  to  Virginia,  the  scenes  visible  on  every 
hand,  reminded'  him  of  this  great  contest.  Into  the  troubles  of  his 
bleeding  and  beleaguered  land  he  was  called  to  enter,  not  merely  in 
his  sympathy  with  the  general  misery  produced  by  the  devastation 
of  property  and  the  destruction  of  life  effected  by  the  enemy,  but 
these  calamities  had  come  very  near  home.  ^  They  had  fallen  upon 
his  friends  and  kindred;  nay,  they  had  reached  to  his  very  house- 
hold. And  it  is  not  unreasonable,  nay,  it  is  most  natural,  to  believe 
that  in  sending  his  last  message  to  his  home,  that  message  was 
intended  to  bear  upon  these  public  interests.  It  was  intended 
solemnly  and  faithfully  to  remind  us  where  our  true  strength  lies. 
"While  he  would  not  have  had  us  foolishly  or  presumptuously  to 
abate  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  means  of  defence,  yet  would  he  point 
us,  as  with  his  dying  hand,  to  the  hills  whence  cometh  our  help  — 
as  if  he  had  said,  "  My  countrymen,  trust  not  in  your  bristling  bul- 
warks or  in  embattled  hosts;  but  put  your  trust  in  the  Lord  your 
God !  There  standing,  the  Confederacy  is  safe.  He  in  whom  you 
confide  will,  as  with  a  hook  in  their  nose,  lead  back  your  enemies  by 
the  way  which  they  came.  God  will  bless  you,  you  and  your  chil- 
dren :  '  God  will  bless  you,  and  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  shall  fear 
Him.'  *  Trust  in  Him  at  all  times:  ye,  people,  pour  out  your 
hearts  before  Him.'" 

Such,  brethren  and  friends,  are  the  last  messages  from  that  faith- 
ful, loving,  lovely  man,  whom  you  have  so  often  heard,  but  now  have 
heard  for  the  last  time ;  whom  you  so  loved  to  look  upon,  but  whom 
you  will  see  no  more,  until  you  see  his  radiant  countenance  in  that 
blessed  assembly  w^here  a  funeral  dirge  is  never  heard  —  where  the 
tears  of  bereavement  are  dried  up  by  the  joy  of  a  glorious  and  ever- 
lasting reunion.  While  we  enshrine  his  memory  in  our  hearts,  let 
us  walk  in  the  faith  which  he  taught  and  exemplified ;  and,  like  him, 
let  us  in  every  trouble ^y  unto  God  to  hide  us! 


APPENDIX. 


James  Madison  Chiles  was  born  in  Abbeville  District,  S.  C,  on 
the  Vtli  of  October,  A.  D.  1809.  His  father,  long  known  as  Major 
John  Chiles,  was  a  deeply  pious  man,  filling  the  office  of  Deacon 
with  commendable  fidelity,  first  in  Bethany  Church,  Edgefield  Dis- 
trict, and  after  its  constitution,  in  Horeb  Church,  Abbeville. 

He  was  baptized  in  April,  1829;  licensed  to  preach  in  December, 
1830,  and  ordained  in  March,  1832.  The  ministers  who  took  part 
in  his  ordination  were,  W.  B.  Johnson,  Luther  Rice,  Richard  Todd, 
and  Washington  Belcher. 

He  first  took  charge  of  Bethany  Church,  then  of  Gilgal,  and  next 
of  Damascus  and  Beulah.  In  1841  he  took  charge  of  Horeb,  and 
i-a  1845  of  the  Baptist  Church  in  Edgefield  village.  This  connection 
did  not  continue  beyond  the  year,  for  in  1846  he  was  preaching  to 
the  Churches  of  Mt.  Moriah,  Beulah  and  Gilgal.  This  last  Church 
he  served  for  eighteen  years.  In  1851  the  failure  of  his  health  con- 
strained him  to  relax  his  ministerial  labors.  In  1852  he  preached  at 
Horeb  and  Mt.  Moriah,  and  continued  this  connection  till  the  fall  of 
1859,  when,  on  account  of  the  health  of  his  familj^,  he  removed  to 
Southwestern  Georgia.  Here  his  time  was  fully  occupied  in  preach- 
ing. Throughout  his  ministry  he  received  repeated  calls  from 
Churches  in  his  own  State,  in  Georgia,  and  in  other  States. 

He  was  first  married  to  Sarah  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  L.  M  Aver, 
Sr.,  of  Barnwell,  sister  of  Hon.  L.  M.  Ayer,  member  of  Congress  of 
the  Confederate  States.  This  accomplished  and  amiable  lady  did 
not  long  survive.  She  left  one  son,  Lewis,  whose  death,  just  as  he 
was  completing  his  fourteenth  year,  his  father  was  called' to  deplore. 

He  was  married,  a  second  time,  to  Frances  A.  Butler,  of  Washing- 
ton, Ga.,  who,  with  six  children,  two  sons  and  four  daughters,  is  left 
to  mourn  her  and  their  irreparable  loss. 

The  sickness  which  terminated  his  life  was  contracted  in  Virginia, 
while  be  was  waiting  upon  his  older  son,  who  had  been  severely 
wounded  in  the  second  battle  of  Manassas.    He  died  in  the  suburbs 


APPENDIX.  23 

of  Warrenton,  Va.,  in  a  family  who  bestowed  upon  him,  as  they  had 

done  upon  his  wounded  son,  every  possible  attention  and  kindness. 

In  a  consolatory  letter   written    by   Rev.   J.   B.  Taylor  to    the 

bereaved  widow,  he  says:  "You  have,  then,  the  sweet  assurance  that 

your  dear  husband  is  now  inheriting  the  heavenly  glory.     He  was  a 

good  man,  one  who  loved  the  blessed  Savibur,  and  he  has  gone  only 

a  little  before  us  to  see  His  face  and  to  enjoy  His  glory.  * 

'  Happy  soul !  thy  days  are  ended — 
All  Iby  mouroiDg  days  below.' 

He  will  sin  and  suffer  no  more.  For  him  we  cannot  weep,  but 
only  for  ourselves.  While  he  was  in  my  family  he  seemed  to  enjoy 
a  high  degree  of  spirituality.  The  evening  before  he  left  for  War- 
renton, in  family  worship  he  read  the  4Gth  Psalm,  and  commented 
upon.it  much  to  the  comfort  and  edification  of  all.  We  all  felt  that 
we  were  favored  in  his  short  sojourn  with  us,  and  hoped  soon  to  see 
his  face  again." 

Another  letter,  from  Rev.  A.  H.  Spilman,  furnishes  the  following 
information  :  "  I  sat  up  with  him  the  night  previous  to  his  death, 
and  talked  as  much  wilh  him  as  his  strength  would  allow.  *  * 
At  times  he  seemed  to  forget  home,  friends  and  everything  worldly, 
and  his  whole  soul  would  seem  to  be  absorbed  in  the  one  great 
subject  of  salvation.  He  talked  much  of  Jesus  and  his  glory,  and 
the  glory  to  be  anticipated  with  him  in  the  last  great  day.  Once 
or  twice  during  the  night  he  said,  'I  see  my  Saviour,  and  shall  soon 
be  with  him.  Glory  !  glory  !  glory  !  Blessed  be  his  name ! '  He 
looked  earnestly  into  my  face  at  one  time  and  said,  '  Brother,  do 
you  think  that  I  shall  die  ? '  I  replied  that  I  did  not  think  that  he 
was  very  near  his  end,  but  that  I  feared  he  would  not  recover.  He 
then  said,  '  I  would  like  to  see  my  family ;  but  the  Lord's  will  be 
done.' " 

From  another  letter,  written  by  a  gentleman  of  Georgia,  who  was 
then  at  Warrenton,  we  have  a  similar  recital  in  the  following  words : 
*'  Doubtless  it  would  have  been  a  pleasure  to  Mr.  Chiles,  and  a 
comfort  to  his  family,  if  they  could  have  been  with  him  in  his  last 
moments.  His  inind  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  contemplating  the 
aU-sufficiency,  the  glory  and  grandeur  of  the  great  plan  of  salvation, 
and  his  spirit  seemed  to  go  out  with  earnest  and  ardent  longings 
toward  its  Supreme  Author.    His  love  for  Jesus,  he  said,  was  great 


24  •  '  APPENDIX. 

because  *  He  had  first  loved  him.'  His  mind  was  clear ;  not  a  doubt 
disturbed  the  peace  of  his  soul.  He  said  he  had  attempted  to  serve 
Jesus  for  a  long  time,  but  none  too  long  or  too  much.  He  mani- 
fested great  love  for  all  who  had  the  privilege  of  being  with  him  in 
his  illness  —  for,  privilege  it  certainly  was.  None,  not  the  most 
obdurate,  could  have  witnessed  his  death  unmoved,  or  repressed 
within  them  the  desire  that  their  'last  end  might  be  hke  his.^  " 

"  He  suffered  but  little  during  his  sickness,  and  none  at  all  that  I 
could  discover  when  he  died. .  He  sank  gradually,  and  breathed  his 
last  without  a  struggle." 

He  died  on  the  28th  of  October,  1862,  aged  63  years  and  3 
weeks.  His  remains  were  brought  to  his  native  State,  and  lie  in  the 
cemetery  of  Horeb  Church. 

Ifi  the  recent  proceedings  of  the  Georgia  Baptist  Convention  is 
a  Report  on  Deceased  Ministers,  adopted  by  that  body,  which  con- 
cludes as  follows  :  "Rev.  James  M.  Chiles,  of  the  Bethel  Association, 
died  at  Warrenton,  Va.,  in  October  last.  He  had  gone  there  to 
nurse  a  sick  son,  and  was  himself  stricken  down  by  the  angel  of 
death.  Brother  Chiles  was  a  South-Carolinian,  and  moved  to  Geor- 
gia in  1859.  He  was  licensed  in  1830,  and  ordained  in  1832; 
thus  for  thirty  years  was  he  engaged  in  preaching  Christ.  He  was 
amiable  in  character,  urbane  in  deportment,  able  in  preaching,  and 
highly  cultivated  in  intellect.  As  a  divine,  few  could  rank  higher ; 
as  an  instructive  minister,  he  was  rarely  excelled ;  and  as  a  citizen, 
he  commanded  the  love  and  esteem  of  all  his  acquaintance. 

"  Though  dying  in  a  distant  State,  he  received  every  attention 
kindness  could  bestow,  and  on  his  death-bed  gave  remarkably  clear 
and  consoling  evidence  of  the  presence  of  genuine  religion  in  his 
bosom.,  In  him  we  have  lost  a  brother  long  to  be  remembered> 
whose  place  it  will  be  impossible  to  fill." 


